


Safewords

by ritsuko



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amnesiac Bucky Barnes, Consensual Kink, Feelings and shit, First Time, Flogging, Heavy Petting, Kink Negotiation, Light Petting, M/M, Mild Kink, Mild S&M, Mild Sexual Content, Praise Kink, Shibari, Spanking, Sub Bucky Barnes, kink club, tied up, touch starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:21:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22964569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ritsuko/pseuds/ritsuko
Summary: He's not quite Bucky Barnes. He's not quite the Winter Soldier. But he's trying to find himself.Too soft of touches are maddening, and too violent are frightening. Isn't there anyone that can help him find a new normal?
Kudos: 13





	Safewords

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this over 5 years ago, before I had actually been to a kink club, and didn't want to post it until I went to one, because I in no way wanted to misrepresent the experience. I think for someone like Bucky (at this point) he's lost and doesn't know what to do.
> 
> The original prompt (where I don't remember where it came from, I'm sorry) was such:
> 
> _Stories where Bucky stumbles into the scene, and he loves it, he sets the rules, no sex, no sexual touching, but he gets petted, tied down, flogged, praised. And he loves it so much, but he’s scared to let Steve know, because Steve thinks he’s getting better, thinks he’s becoming Bucky again, and this is never something he wanted, back then._
> 
> As always, safe words are important, consent should always be gotten, and I hope this little foray will peak your interest into what exactly Bucky wants out of a kink club.

It's not the kind of place that Steve would go. Hell, it's probably not even the kind of place that Steve would even know about, not even with all the resources at his fingertips.

It had only taken Bucky twenty minutes.

He hadn't evenknown what to search for, or if it even existed, or how to even form the words of what it was that he needed. Steve was always so calm, so gentle with him, that he knew that the blonde would never understand something like this.

There was little chance that Steve would miss him, the other man had been giving him his space. He'd told the blonde that he was going out, not to wait up. Steve had smiled and to his credit not asked where he was going or when he would be back. It was nice to know that while the other man worried, he was slowly coming to realize that being a mother hen wasn't helping Bucky at all. Still Bucky told him he'd be back before morning.

It was hard. After SHIELD and HYDRA fell, Steve had found him, coaxed him to come home with him. Gave him food and shelter and didn't hurt him. He knew that he was the remnants of a man named Bucky. But most days, he wasn't totally sure who that even was to begin with, or if somehow this person he used to be would ever resurface. Sometimes he would stare in the mirror and try to remember each wrinkle, each follicle of hair, but the man reflected was a mystery, stolen from him by HYDRA. There were parts of Steve he could remember, blue eyes and smiles and feeding a much thinner, frailer blonde medicine and being rescued and screaming 'Not without you' in a burning building, but Bucky was still an enigma to him.

Still, he can't crush Steve's hopes . Not after all his kindnesses. Not after almost killing him.

Washington D.C.'s not hard to navigate, thanks to the GPS on his phone. The place isn't far, but it is a decent walk for someone who hasn't been trained to overexert themselves. Still, he can feel anxiety building within him. Just exactly what is it that he's getting himself into?

The building is nondescript. No signage, no window. Just a number on the door, and a little slot where someone could look out. For a moment, he fidgets, making sure his arm is completely hidden. Between his long sleeved tee, a flannel, and gloves, he seems well covered, but still he worries. 

He waits in the shadows, gathering the courage.

No one walks by the building for a long time, and then two girls walk by, long trench coats, fishnets and stilettos. They're both beautiful, smiling adoringly at one another. One knocks on the door, and the panel slides open, sees them, and allows them entry. 

Bucky swallows. He can't stand here all night. Well, he can, but what would be the point?

Silently, he crosses out of the shadows, pulling the brim of his cap lower over his head. Raising his hand, he knocks and steps back.

The plate opens and eyes look out at him.

"Yeah?"

God. . . what should he even say. "I. . . I'm here for the club."

The eyes glint coldly at him. "Yeah? Who sent you?"

He can feel his face start to flush, unsure of even being here anymore. "I found you on the internet. Isn't it an open night?"

There's a moment of silence, and then the opening slides closed. The door doesn't open. Bucky swallows. 

_So that's it,_ he thinks, heart falling. _There's something wrong with me and they don't want-_

The lock slides with a click and the door opens, to his shock. He steps in slowly, body trained and taut for an attack, even though it's ridiculous to think that he will be. 

There's nothing in the small holding room, just the bouncer that closes the door behind him and gets back on his stool, paying him no mind. In front of him there is a large velvet curtain, covering the wall. Behind it, he can hear the low sound of bass thumping, of conversation. He turns to the bouncer to ask a question, but the curtain opens, a beautiful redhead sliding through, careful to keep him from seeing through the drapes.

Her green eyes give him the once over and she smiles. She's petite, dressed in a form fitting red corset and black pencil skirt. Even with heels, she barely comes up to his shoulder. Tattoos of flowers wrap up the length of her arms. Her hair is pinned up in victory rolls on the top of her head. There's the tiny glint of a diamond piercing on her nose.

She's so pretty, Bucky forgets how to speak for a moment.

"Is this your first time?" She asks in a lilting soprano voice. All he can do is nod stupidly, quickly getting more and more worried that this was not the right thing to do, that he should have stayed home hidden in his room away from people, away from someone he could hurt or that would be scared of him.

She doesn't give him a moment longer to fester on the dark thoughts. "I'm Medea." The girl says, a quirk of her black tinged lips. 

He finally finds his voice. "That's an interesting name."

She raises an eyebrow. "Here, I'm Medea. You don't have to use your real name here. If you don't want to. What do you want to be called?"

It's not something that Bucky had even considered. He doesn't know enough of the scene to even start thinking about little things like that, or if he even really wants this.

"Winter." He blurts out, before he can think any better of it. Probably not the best name to choose, but he's caught on the spot and it's the first thing that he thinks of. She must not think it's too strange, because she just smiles and nods. 

"I like it." She steps back, against the curtain, but doesn't pry it apart. "Do you have questions? Since it's beginners night, I'm more than happy to explain the club and the rules if you need that. You did register online, right?"

He had. The club had had very strict rules about making reservations through a website called Fetlife. Bucky honestly hadn't spent too much time on a profile or working on any of it, as he had felt a familiar pang of uneasiness at some of the pop up ads on the site itself. He hadn't wanted anyone to know his realt name either, so he'd gone for James Winter; innocuous enough, or so he'd hoped. 

At least, enough to keep people off of him.

Medea made no indication that she knew who he might be, after all, the Triskelion incident had been months ago, and he had spent over a year in hiding before even finding Steve.

Which, had been great.

But the blonde just couldn't scratch certain itches that Bucky had.

Medea finishes up, after explaining basic rules shows him the coat closet and the bathrooms. Then, with a soft smile, she places her well manicured hand on the curtain.

"Are you ready?"

Bucky has no one else to blame for this crazy idea but himself. He nods, resolute. Medea looks at him, and stays still. "You look scared, but there's nothing to be afraid of. If someone wants to do something you don't want to, just say no. A lot of people just come in their first time and watch. No one is going to pressure you into anything."

He nods resolutely. This is what he wanted. He'd been curious, and his own feet had led him here. "Okay. Yeah, I'm ready."

Medea smiles reassuringly. "There's no pressure here, Winter. Everyone's really friendly. I promise."

She pulls back the curtain to reveal a red door. With her hand around the knob, she pushes in. A blanket of sound covers him as he steps into the room.

There's so much going on that it's more than a little overwhelming. Dance music thumps in the background, setting the tone for all of the people in front of him. There's a bar, and long fluffy couches around the room, lining the dance floor. The far wall has a bunch of things that he's not sure of what they are, although people seem to be everywhere and using all manner of things. Padded benches and X shaped planks of wood and even a set of stocks tucked into a corner of the room. Several people turn to look when he enters. There's an even mixture of men, women and a few nonbinary people. Some are dressed classy, some gothy, some rockabilly. There are several bare chested and topless men and women roaming around. Most people are interacting with each other, flirting and engaging one another in conversation. A few are even in nothing at all.

Then there are the things that are less than normal that start to pop out at him. There's a girl on the one of the couches, splayed out over another woman's lap. He watches as the other woman spanks her with the flat of her hand across each cheek, how the girl is sobbing and thoroughly seeming to enjoy it. Another woman walks past where he and Medea stand, leading a man on a leash. Despite all the music and talking he can hear the faint undertone of moans, cries of pleasure.

A shiver goes up his spine, and all at once, he feels a longing. But he also feels dirty. 

Bucky doesn't know if he likes that thought.

He wonders why he ever thought it would be a good idea to come here.

He has to keep his eyes off of the back wall, where he's sure someone is getting a blowjob. 

"It's a lot to take in, I know." Medea says soothingly. "I say, just stay on the sidelines and watch. Someone might approach you, you can tell them no if you're not interested. Or if you see a scene you want to be a part of, go up and talk to them. Just be polite. We're all here to play after all." 

She smiles and starts to walk away, and for a moment, Bucky almost considers asking her to stay. But he's an adult, and it's obvious that whether she works here or is just a liason for new people, she has other duties too. He just stands back, half in the shadows, back to the wall. 

For a long time, he just watches, taking in all of the things that are happening around him. He doesn't look to the far back wall, where he's sure that sex is definitely happening (and if not there, couples and groups keep escaping through a doorway to yet another room he knows he is definitely not ready to go into). Instead, he focuses on the couches. 

There are several different couples on them, whole groups just relaxing, cuddling and talking. One couple pets each other through their clothes, and he looks away. It's a little too intimate for him.

His eyes alight on the woman who was leading the man on the leash around. She sits on the couch, with the man at her feet, head splayed in her lap as she runs perfectly manicured fingers through his hair. The man's eyes are closed in bliss. It seems like the woman is speaking lowly to him, and he strains, trying to catch any word of their conversation.

As inconspicuously as possible, he makes his way over to the bar, only to get closer to the two of them. He stands slightly in front, with the guise that he's waiting to order, but keeps glancing down at the two. He still can't hear, but he can tell by the soothing tone of her voice, it's nice.

While he watches, the man looks up, blue eyes lighting on her face with adoration. Then the other man realizes that Bucky is staring, and gives a little smile. Quickly Bucky turns away, flustered that he was caught.

He turns his back to them, still trying to pretend that he was just waiting for the bar, heart hammering in his chest. But he knows that the other man has seen, he probably thinks that he is a pervert for watching. Bucky has to catch himself there. Is he a pervert for looking at people openly being sexual in public, hell, people who probably don't even give a fuck? People who are openly watching each other? He doesn't know. Is it something his old self would have had a problem with? Open intimacy?

He doesn't know that either. 

Still, he shrugs deeper into his flannel, desperately glancing for the exit. Does he just leave the same way he came in? Hopefully he doesn't have to go through that ominous back room. He doesn't even see Medea, so it isn't like he can ask her help.

"You okay?" The voice comes from slightly behind him, and the only thing saving him from jumping in shock is years of training to be still. Slowly he turns. Ocean blue eyes gaze up at him above an infectious grin. The man who had seconds before caught him watching.

"Uh, yeah." He says, and turns back to the counter. His neck feels hot, and he knows he's starting to blush. Maybe if he can just get away. . .

"There's nothing wrong with looking. That's how you figure out what you like. Me, I wanted to do all sorts of crazy things when I first came here, and then I realized that you can like the idea of a lot of kinks, but you don't have to do them." The man continues, and Bucky can't help but gaze at him out of the corner of his eye. The words are kind, the tone friendly. 

Still, Bucky shirks away. 

"Hey. I know it's kind of weird. But you still came here. That means something in you wants this." The man says softly, but he can still pick up the lilting tone through the thumping of the music. "You should see what it is that you're lacking before you abandon it. You might be surprised."

But Bucky doesn't want to know. Suddenly, the room feels claustrophobic, like everyone's eyes are on him. God, how could he have come here? Come looking for this? He feels so stupid. His eyes fall on a couple in the corner, easier to see now from this vantage point. One's face is buried in the crotch of the other.

_A hand fisted in his hair, airway clogged, can't breathe, don't bite, be good-_

Suddenly he's blinking up at a half a dozen faces ringing him, all worried. It doesn't help the fenced in feeling.

"Are you okay?" Medea's suddenly at his side, petite hand on his left shoulder. He cringes away as if her touch was hot coals. "Move back guys, lets get some air."

Somehow, he manages to get to his feet. She leads him outside the club, and he gulps down air as if he's been drowning. "Hey, Winter. Are you okay?"

His eyes flash up at her. "I. . . I'm sorry."

"Hey, there's no need to be." She soothes, smile tinged with worry. "I should have realized that maybe you needed a little less stimulation. I'm sorry about Ivar and Grigori. They know better than to be doing that in the common room. People can have their clothes off, but sex is for the back room."

Bucky doesn't look up. Just stares at the concrete dully. He realizes it's a coping mechanism, an inactive at ease position. It's a position he was in many times over the years, over various mission. Watching. Waiting to be berated.

"Winter?" She asks, tone suddenly serious. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you here?"

He glances up slightly, worried by what she is saying. 

"If you have sexual issues, I don't know that this is a safe place for you. There are too many things here that might make you feel uncomfortable. I'm not going to ask what's happened to you, but you seem like someone might've hurt you in the past. Pretty badly. I'm sorry if I'm assuming. If you've been abused, this might not make you feel better. We want everyone to feel happy and have consensual relationships here, okay?"

Bucky winces. It feels like he's being asked not to come back. There are so many things he wants to say, but he doesn't know where to even begin.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles finally, defeated. But when he turns to go, she gently catches his wrist. 

"Don't get me wrong. I'm telling you this for their safety as much as yours. If you want to come back, we'd love to have you. But maybe, consider what you want out of a trip before you come? There's a lot of people that are inquisitive in the group. They'll want to talk, to see what you're into. All you have to do is say no if you don't want to do anything. In fact, it might be good if you filled out a kink checklist" Her fingers dip into her corset top, and pulls out a card. "Please, this is my number. If you want to talk, I want to listen. You can text me anytime, 'kay? You seem nice, Winter."

Medea gives his fingers a squeeze as she slips him the card, and then goes back into club.

Bucky walks the streets until dawn, wondering what the hell is wrong with him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a very vanilla chapter, but there will be more. This wasn't the end.


End file.
